


Snowflakes

by CarolinaNadeau



Series: The Music Man: The Happily-Ever-After [5]
Category: The Music Man (1962), The Music Man - All Media Types, The Music Man - Willson
Genre: Courtship, F/M, Fluff with depth, French Kissing, Marriage Proposal, Passion vs Propriety, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 20:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarolinaNadeau/pseuds/CarolinaNadeau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marian Paroo has always loved snowflakes... but when Marian takes Harold to watch the first snowfall of the year, she has no idea of the wonderful surprise she will receive in return.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snowflakes

Winter in Iowa could be harsh and unforgiving, and there were many who grumbled and shook their heads at the first signs of snowfall in autumn. Despite her many pragmatic tendencies, though, Marian had never been one of those people, and she didn't suspect that she ever would become one, either. River City's librarian was as much of an aesthetic as she was a romantic, and the changes of seasons were captivating to her, year in and year out. She loved the early snowfalls most of all, however. There was something about it that stirred her soul, that gave her the feeling that perhaps there was magic in the world after all.

The first snowflakes were falling outside that evening in November, and Marian watched them wistfully through the windows of the library. Glinting in the glow of the streetlamps, the flakes looked like tiny, delicate stars, and their beauty invoked pleasant domestic sentiments, bringing to mind warm blankets, hot cocoa, and the smell of fresh pine. When the last of the patrons had gone home and she had finished her work, Marian decided to wait for Harold outside, unable to resist the call of the snowflakes any longer.

Quickly donning her coat and velvet hat, Marian extinguished all of the lights, locked the library doors, and stepped out into the cold. Breathing in deeply and slowly, the librarian raised a gloved palm and watched as a few snowflakes settled there, the crystals perfectly preserved for one ephemeral moment before melting away. Although there were still a few people on the sidewalks and a motorcar or two hummed in the distance, there was an enchanting sort of silence that always accompanied a snowfall. Marian stood reverent, rapt as the snow fell gently around her, hardly feeling the chill.

She didn't even notice that Harold had come to stand at the foot of the stairs until she heard him call her name. Startled, she jumped a little.

"Harold, how long have you been there?" she asked with a laugh.

The professor shrugged affably and smiled at her. "Only a minute or so. I wondered why you weren't waiting inside, and I wasn't quite sure what you were up to out here..."

Flushing, Marian lowered her head. "I – I was watching the snow. I must have looked foolish, I know, but I just thought it was so lovely..."

Harold chuckled. "Well, I do agree that beautiful things are worth paying attention to – why do you think I was just standing there watching you?"

"Harold!" Laughing softly, Marian descended the steps to join him. "How can you flirt with me so shamelessly in public?"

Taking her hand, Harold pulled Marian to his side as they began to stroll down the sidewalk. "It's not that public right now, Miss Marian. Most people have the good sense to be indoors in this kind of weather!"

"It's only a flurry," Marian protested with a roll of her eyes. "An Iowan knows when to worry about freezing, and it's certainly not now!"

"I haven't ever spent the winter in the Midwest," Harold admitted. "I assume I should be expecting much worse than this soon?"

Marian responded with a noncommittal tilt of her head. Her loyalty to Iowa ran deep, and she didn't feel it would be fair to speak too poorly of its weather patterns – even if it happened to be true. "Well, it's still autumn. It's true that it can get harsh later, but for now, the snow is perfectly harmless – and very beautiful, I think."

As they continued to walk toward Marian's home, neither of them spoke again, and the librarian felt herself wondering if Harold was as caught up in the spell of the snow as she was. Her heart began to beat faster as she gazed at the man she loved and remembered one of her silly little white-knight dreams. She'd always thought that it would be awfully romantic to be kissed in the snow, and she was beginning to wonder if there wasn't some way that she could bring that little fantasy to life.

They were coming up on a little path that led into an outlying part of the Madison Picnic Park. Something looked so wonderfully idyllic about the tree-lined, lamp-lit way, and Marian felt the sudden urge to follow it.

Feeling impulsive, Marian skipped ahead and tugged at Harold's hand. "Why don't we take a little detour?" she asked, smiling back at him, raising an eyebrow in mischief. "I'd like to show you something."

"Now where are you taking me, darling?" Harold gasped as he tried to keep up with her sudden increase in pace. "Your mother is going to expect me to bring you home in one piece, you know!"

Giggling breathlessly, the librarian pulled Harold into a secluded little clearing in the park and sat down on a wooden bench, motioning for him to join her. The bench was cold, but the two of them were alone enough that Marian felt comfortable in sitting close to Harold and allowing him to wrap an arm around her. Under ordinary circumstances, it would not have been a particularly private place, but the town was deserted enough that it felt as if they had stepped into another world.

The ground wasn't yet frozen enough to allow much snow to accumulate there, but the snow did cling to the bare branches of the trees and settle atop the streetlamps and fence posts. As he looked around, Harold breathed in sharply, and Marian smiled, knowing that he was at last beginning to realize why she so loved the snow.

"I've loved to watch snowflakes ever since I was a little girl," the librarian confided, holding out her hand to catch a few more. "Especially at the beginning of the season, when it's been so long since I've seen them. Snow is so unlike any other kind of weather, or at least it feels like it. There's something almost – holy – about it, I think."

"It is really something, isn't it," Harold murmured as he looked around in wonder. Slipping another arm around her waist, he pulled her against him, and Marian was grateful for his warmth. "It's worth staying out in the cold a while, for a sight like this."

"Now you don't think me so foolish, do you?" Marian asked, a note of triumph in her voice as she glanced up at him.

"I never said that – you did, actually," Harold replied with a laugh. "But it _is_ true that it's been years since I've really slowed down to look at the weather or, well, anything. I did love to play in the snow when I was a child, but it isn't something I've ever thought about much since then. I suppose when you're a traveling salesman who doesn't have any promise of Thanksgiving or Christmas, winter doesn't look so welcoming. "

Harold's tone was still light, but Marian felt her stomach knot up, afraid that she had inadvertently offended him or touched upon a sore subject. "I'm sorry," she responded awkwardly, dropping her gaze to stare down at the toe of her boot. "If I've brought up – unpleasant memories, I didn't –"

In response, the professor merely shrugged. "I don't think it's that unpleasant, after all – when you really consider it. What I have now is well worth the price."

The librarian looked up at him in surprise. "What do you mean by that?" she asked, wanting very much to hear the answer although she suspected that she already knew.

Leaning back on the bench, Harold pulled her even closer and began to stroke her hair. Marian felt her heart jump when she considered that somebody might see them, but the night was so silent that she soon calmed as she remembered that they were, for now, quite isolated.

Harold inclined his head close to Marian's, speaking softly in her ear. "I know I've lived a terrible life up until the past few months – I was a miserable excuse for a man." Putting his hands on her shoulders, Harold turned her around to face him, and the fierce emotion in his gaze almost startled her. "But if I _had_ been a good man – settled down and married a girl from my hometown and raised a family like everybody else I knew – I wouldn't have you. And no matter how horribly selfish it makes me, I can't regret everything. I can't imagine living without you, Marian."

As Harold spoke, Marian's eyes had been getting wider and wider, and now she could hardly keep her hands from trembling. She had hardly expected their conversation to become so serious, so quickly. Had he meant to speak so freely with her? What could she say in response? Trying to remain calm and rational, Marian attempted to alleviate the gravity of what he had just said, to make it clear that it was not her intention to coerce any promises or confessions from him.

"It's not as though I'm the only woman whom you could have loved, Harold," Marian blurted, her mouth feeling uncomfortably dry. "You could have been happy, if – if you had done what you said..."

Harold raised his eyebrows skeptically, though his gaze remained intense. "Is that so? What about you, my dear? What if you hadn't been an outcast for all those years in River City – what if you'd gotten married to some nice young man who deserved you?"

"Now, that's ridiculous!" Marian quickly dismissed the notion with a wave of her hand, almost laughing at the absurdity of the hypothetical. "I could never have loved any man the way I love you. I can't even think of it." But her heart was pounding to belie her casual demeanor – other than during a few brief, embarrassing incidents involving her mother and brother, the topic of marriage had never came up between them, yet in the past few minutes, Harold had brought it up twice.

An emotion that Marian couldn't identify lit up Harold's face, and he gave her a tremulous, uncertain grin. Marian strongly suspected that he was about to kiss her – and then, to her utter and complete shock, he instead performed the completely inexplicable action of pulling off her gloves. The librarian could do nothing but let out a startled laugh, but she waited patiently for an explanation as he raised her bare right hand to his lips and kissed it gently.

"So," the music professor said in a quiet, steady tone, his gaze locked on hers. "It seems that we are in agreement, Madam Librarian – that neither one of us has any desire to live without the other."

"Yes, we are," said Marian haltingly, still unwilling to guess where he was going with this. She took a deep breath, hoping that she wasn't trembling – the greatest difficulty of being a woman so given to bouts of powerful emotion was the awful feeling of being let down after an intense hope, a feeling she knew all too well. Marian fought back against her foolish romantic thoughts, trying her best not to get carried away: _It's only banter, nothing unusual. He's probably just teasing you before he kisses you._

Her mind was so fixed on not getting her hopes up that she barely even noticed what he was doing, and she didn't even think to look down at his hands again until she felt velvet brush against her bare fingers – certainly not the wool of his gloves – and she looked down in confusion so that her eyes lit upon the diamond ring in the velvet box at the same moment that he whispered: "Then, will you marry me, Marian?"

Marian's breath caught in her throat, all that built-up emotion swirling up to the surface in a single second, and she knew that she couldn't trust herself to speak for fear that her words might come out as a sob instead. She raised her eyes to his, needing to make sure that she wasn't dreaming; but when she looked up from the ring, Harold was still there, his gaze ardent and sincere, snowflakes dancing in the soft light behind him just as they had been all along.

It seemed to Marian like it might have been minutes, but in reality only a few moments had gone by before she finally couldn't stop herself from giving her answer to that most wonderful question. "Of _course_ , Harold," Marian almost squeaked, tears welling up in her eyes despite her best efforts to contain them.

His hands trembling, Harold slid the ring onto her finger, holding her hand up to the light so they could both see the glint of the diamond. The simple, true thought that floated into her mind was almost too much to bear: _Harold and I are going to be married._ All at once Marian felt herself lose all control of her composure, and she fell to weeping in his arms, her face buried in his chest.

"Oh, darling," Harold fretted, wrapping his arms around her. "I didn't mean for you to cry..."

"No, it's all right," replied Marian, her cries turning to hysterical little giggles as she looked up at him again. "I'm just so very happy... I don't think I've ever been this happy. Before now, I didn't think that anybody really cried from happiness – I thought it was the kind of thing that only happened in books!"

In response, Harold leaned down and gave her a soft, tender kiss, wiping the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs as he did so. "I can't believe that such a perfect situation presented itself to me – now that was the kind of thing that I thought only happened in stories," he confessed.

"You mean, you didn't plan this?" Marian asked, startled.

Harold cocked his head at her, his expression bemused. "How soon you forget! You were the one who brought me here tonight, love."

"That's right!" she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh, I hope I didn't spoil some grand romantic plan of yours."

"Truth be told, I didn't have one," Harold admitted, a hint of shame in his voice. "I've been trying to figure out how I might propose to you since – well, since that night in July. But I could never come up with a plan that seemed good enough."

Marian laughed as she idly toyed with the ring on her finger. "I daresay that was the first time you'd ever had any trouble with _that_!"

"The first time I've ever driven myself so crazy about it, to be sure. But I finally decided that there was a chance that the perfect moment might arise naturally, so I've been carrying the ring in my pocket every day. And tonight, when you led me here, I wasn't even thinking about proposing, but the things that we said to each other – I knew that there wouldn't be a more perfect time and place to ask you to be my wife."

"'Your wife,'" echoed Marian, testing the feel of the words on her tongue. "'My husband.' I didn't think I'd ever be able to use words such as those."

"Neither did I," Harold laughed. "But now I can hardly wait until I can."

Suddenly Marian realized that they had not addressed a rather important practical issue that came with being engaged. "How soon?" she asked, now a little worried that Harold might still shy away from setting a date even though he had proposed in such an unexpectedly timely manner.

"I don't want to rush you, but thinking of what you said before – I really would love to have Christmas with you, in _our_ house. I thought we could get married in early December, that is, if that's what you want."

Marian gave him a glowing smile as the last of her doubts went flying away. Though it could have been worrying to contemplate such a major life change so near in the future, Marian felt nothing but joyous anticipation. "That should be enough time to get a nice wedding together," she told him with a sweet kiss on the cheek. "I don't want anything fancy, I just want to be married to you."

At that, the music professor's face lit up with intense emotion, the same way that it had when she had assured him earlier that she never could have loved another – but this time, Marian knew exactly how he was feeling, and she was certain that she was feeling the exact same way. Wrapping her snugly in his embrace, Harold responded by meeting her mouth with his own in a passionate kiss. Confident that they were still entirely alone, Marian allowed herself to melt with his kisses, sighing softly and leaning against his chest, sliding her hands up to stroke his dark hair. When he coaxed her lips to part with his tongue, she responded eagerly, kissing him back as thoroughly as he kissed her, allowing the heat between them to dispel all traces of the winter cold.

Her mind grew a little hazy with desire as it always was when they canoodled so heavily, and one brief, intriguing thought flitted into her mind – being married would mean that they would be able to do _more_ than this, that they could finally pursue their desires wherever they led. It was a thought that was both tantalizing and profoundly terrifying, but for the moment, Marian was not particularly inclined to feel afraid. She felt the vague but powerful longing to know him further, to lose herself in the scent and taste and feel of him, and the thought sent curious little shivers down her spine. When they at last broke apart, Marian could feel herself blushing, and she was sure that Harold knew what she had been thinking – knowing Harold, it was highly probable that he had been thinking along the same lines!

But such thoughts were dangerous, Marian knew. She felt more than a little disconcerted that such carnal matters had come to mind before lace handkerchiefs and flower arrangements and the other trappings of weddings with which a young fiancée should be concerning herself. But then Harold gave her that sly grin that she adored, and she quickly rationalized her misgivings away. Perhaps it was not some defect of character that made her desire Harold so; perhaps it was Harold himself who had instilled such feelings in her, and she was powerless to resist. For the time being, at least, Marian refused to chastise herself further. She was just too happy right now – surely at some later time she would have the opportunity to further examine her unruly inclinations and tame them to a more moderate level...

Thankfully, Harold was enough of a gentleman not to ask what had distracted her so when she stared mutely at him for a few moments after their kiss. Helping her to her feet, Harold handed Marian's gloves back to her. "I don't suppose you still want these, do you?" he asked with a wink.

Marian tucked the gloves in her coat pocket, smiling deliriously at her ring again. "I think I can weather the cold a little while longer. Oh, imagine what Mama will say when she sees it!"

"She'll say 'about time!', if I know your mother," said Harold with a laugh. "I think she'll be quite relieved that we're only waiting a month for the wedding."

Slipping her hand through the crook of Harold's arm, Marian allowed him to lead her back to the main path that they would follow to her home. Watching the soft flakes falling in the quiet darkness, Marian felt an immeasurable joy fill her heart. She had spent so many years dreaming of romance, yet in recent years she had slowly begun to accept that her dreams might never come true. And, even after she and Harold had begun courting, the dream of being with him forever still seemed fragile and uncertain – as much as he constantly proved his devotion and adoration to her, Marian was practical enough to know that the reality of marriage would be intimidating to a man who had never spent more than a few weeks in the same town. As fervently as Marian wished to begin a life together with her dear music professor, she had steeled herself for the possibility that a proposal might take him years, even if he didn't decide that being with her was too much of a burden.

Then tonight, here she was with a diamond ring on her finger – the snowflakes falling all around them looked a little like diamonds to her, now – and she felt gleeful enough to skip and run and shout to the heavens how happy she was. Her jubilation was so great that it seemed a physical strain to keep it all inside, and it made itself evident in the grin that she couldn't keep off her face. Harold was smiling just as giddily, and Marian was certain that they must have looked like a pair of lovesick teenage sweethearts, making her grateful once again that the streets were so empty that night. Neither of them spoke any more as they walked through the snow-dusted streets, neither one willing to break the wonderful, perfect silence of the evening.

However, as they reached the gate to her house, the librarian knew that this would be their last chance to be alone for the night. As soon as her mother found out about their engagement, she would undoubtedly spend the next several hours expressing her elation and gratitude, as well as getting right down to brass tacks in the logistics of planning their wedding. Winthrop, too, was sure to do more than his fair share of celebrating once he found out that Harold was going to become his brother-in-law. While Marian was looking forward to the imminent opportunity to bring such joyful news to her family, she wanted just a few more moments to revel in their private bliss.

Turning at the gate, she looked up at her fiancé with an impish smile. "Harold?"

"Yes, darling?" he inquired, taking both her hands in his own.

Seizing the opportunity, Marian leaned up and pressed a brief but tender kiss against his lips before drawing back to gaze at his startled expression. "I'm going to love snowflakes even more now, you know," she told him with a light laugh. "Whenever I see them, I'll think of this night." And then, because that didn't seem quite enough, she leaned up to kiss his cheek and whisper "I love you" in his ear, a gesture which Harold reciprocated wholeheartedly as he wrapped his arms around her.

They had scarcely made a noise since arriving at the house, but Mrs. Paroo was nothing if not observant, and a few seconds later, the front door opened, spilling the light of the house down the front walkway to where the happy couple stood. Hastily, Harold and Marian broke apart until they were standing at a more respectable distance – although Marian was certain that once her mother knew what had transpired that night, she would hardly begrudge her daughter an innocent embrace.

"Whatever are you two doing out there?" Mrs. Paroo called out across the yard. "If you want to eat dinner with us, Professor Hill, you're more than welcome. It's far too cold for dawdling around outside – why don't you come in and warm up?"

"Of course we will, Mama!" Marian answered, trying to keep her tone even so as not to reveal too soon the lovely secret that they carried with them. After all, this was news that her mother had pined after for years, and Marian wasn't about to give up her chance to make the wonderful announcement! "Are you ready, Harold?" she asked with as much nonchalance as she could manage.

Barely able to contain his amused smile, Harold nodded. "Sounds like we'll have a wonderful evening, Miss Marian." As he pushed the gate open with one hand, he folded his other hand around Marian's – discreetly covering the ring with his thumb. Marian smiled at how he intuitively knew just what she was planning, and she squeezed his hand in a silent expression of approval.

"Well, let's not keep them waiting any longer." Side by side, the music professor and librarian eagerly moved to take Mrs. Paroo up on her invitation, leaving the chilly air behind them and joining together with the family that now could truly belong to them both.


End file.
